False Pretences
by Captain Eventually
Summary: When a doctor is kidnapped by Chicago's Mafia, she is forced to finish her deceased fathers five years of work for them. This entails spying/rooming with a man in the mafia, while he believes it is his purpose to romance her into joining the mob for life.
1. Life for rent

Chapter One

Life for rent – Dido

"It's only a mild case of dermatitis, do you have any allergies?" I ask my patient who stares blatantly at me, his spiked brown hair reminding me of the nineties ere.

"Not that I know of, it only happens when I do dishes."

Resting my head in my hand, silently praising the fact that this teen is my last patient for the day, "Have you thought about wearing gloves, avoiding contact with the soapy water? Or trying a less toxic dish detergent?"

Ryan frowns, "Yeah, but I work at McDonalds, it's too much of a hassle to pull my gloves off every time someone needs me, and the shop has a special type of detergent under health and safety to keep the dishes sterilized."

Whoa, McDonalds _have _a health and safety policy they apply to. I grab my pen and write down on a prescription piece of paper, "I'm going to prescribe you Psoria ointment, apply twice daily and it should go away. But honestly, I would be seriously considering if the food business is the right road for you."

Looking grim, he nods and grabs the prescription, I hand him the pen, "Just need you to sign the bottom."

Signing and thanking me, he leaves my office with hunch shoulders. Hearing the door close I put my copy of the prescription and stapling it to my notes of his appointment and place it into his portfolio. Picking up my brown –fake- leather suitcase and the portfolio, I walk into reception after locking my office. I hand Ryan's portfolio over to the recently hired receptionist, Angela, and smile, "Done for the day."

"You know it," Grabbing the folder, "Any plans for the weekend?"

I shake my head, "Nothing special, I have to meet Jake at the noodle bar after work and probably just the gym tomorrow."

She gives me a grim smile, "Sounds exciting, I'm going to the movies this weekend with my boyfriend."

"I didn't know you have a boyfriend." I stretch out my neck and fix up my collar of my very cozy jacket.

Putting the folio in amongst others in a filing cabinet, she replies, nodding, "Ben, we've been dating for eight months now."

"Good for you." I force a smile.

Before either of us could say anything Rebecca walked out of her office and locked the door. Turning to me she gives me a thankful smile, "You're a miracle worker, you've only been here for three months and already you're picking up slack with Jessica not in today." She rolls her eyes, knowing that Jessica only took the day off today to look in bridal catalogues for her upcoming wedding…Next year.

I grin, "Its what they pay me for."

Shaking her head, she walks further into reception and hands Angela her last patients folio as I had moments ago, "I still can't believe you took this job, you're way over qualified. Aren't you a surgeon?"

"I studied surgery, yeah, but I had enough credit for GP as well."

"If you can pull bullets out of victims and cancer out of body then why are you writing prescriptions' for the diabetic?"

"Same reason you are." Which I have no idea what that reason is.

She rolls her eyes, "My mother was a GP, you've seen how reception gets, and how far the into the future the appointments go. We need more family practitioners up and about."

"Couldn't say it better myself." I cover.

"You meeting Jacob tonight?"

I nod, "Yeah, noodle bar in ten minutes."

She nods, smiling suggestively, she replies, "Have a great weekend Bella."

"You too, see you next week."

"See you."

I widen my eyes to Angela and sign, laughing, "Have fun at the movies"

She smiles genuinely, "Thanks, I will."

Gripping my suitcase, I leave the surgery with my car keys in hand. Unlocking my small black hatchback, I shove my bag onto the passenger seat and drive off. I roll my neck, feeling the love hate relationship of being a simple family general practitioner. It has it's up. It's simple. You know where you stand. You know when you start. You know when you end. And it has its down sides. It's simple. You know what's wrong with the patient before they come into the surgery. You know that today will be the same as tomorrow, and tomorrow as the next day.

I thought that living the simple life would be what I want. I've worked in a hospital and completed my internship, handing clamps to the surgeons who've been there for years and occasionally holding one yourself. I've done half of my residency – completing a total of nine solo surgeries. I've even worked in a cancer research lab for three months before becoming a vegetarian. I've lived in four cities, and now on the outskirts of Chicago, and already I know that the 'simple' life will not work out for me.

Already knowing that I will be putting in a letter of resignation in a few short weeks, I pull into the noodle bar to see my black haired, tanned boyfriend sitting on a stool, chowing down on his noodles. I grab the purse out of my bag and lock the car door as I walk up to his sitting figure. Hearing footsteps, he turns around and gives me a handsome smile, putting a hand on my back and kisses my cheek, "Hey honey, how's work."

"Work is work, don't get me started." I say bluntly, looking up at the menu, knowing full well what I want and what I've got to say to the man I've recently acquired with the new job.

Deciding it's best to do it over a full stomach, I order a vegetarian rice and coke, my legs crossed as my left foot taps lightly against the stool. Jake puts his hand on my leg, "How've you been?"

I rest my elbow on the bar and support my cheek in my hand, "Yeah, good. Yourself?"

He grins, his white teeth glistening in the fluorescence, "I got the promotion."

"That's great."

"Really? You don't sound enthusiastic." He gulps, his teeth clamp together as shown by the outline of his wide jaw.

Great, I wanted to have dinner first, "Look, Jake…"

His hand retreats from my leg, "Don't worry Bella, I knew I didn't have much chance of keeping you." He picks up his chopsticks and eats more of his dinner.

"It's not you, and it's not that I don't like you. I'm just…not feeling it."

His face a bitter amuse, "Please don't give me that."

I frown, "I'm serious Jacob. I honestly don't feel I can be happy with anyone at the moment unless I'm happy with myself."

"And why aren't you happy?"

"I…" Slightly taken aback, "honestly don't know. Look, life change, ambitions change. It just feels while everyone else is settling in, I'm falling out."

He stops chewing, swallows, "You're moving, aren't you?"

"I might be." Not confirming anything.

"So what? You screw around my sisters surgery, screw around with me and now you leave without looking at damage control."

"I really don't think much damage is done Jake. I've been here three months, and dated you for two. Your sister can just as easily find another GP as she found me." I explain, I pull a tug of his hair sheltering him from me and pull it behind his ear, "You're a great guy Jake, you're cute as hell and any girl will be lucky to have a barrister as a boyfriend."

"But you."

"But me."

At the most awkward of time, the cook comes out and puts a bowl of very tasty smelling rice in front of me – only now my appetite was almost non-existent. Just to have me doing something and not stare at my ex who is glaring at the walls with fireballs, I start to shovel the rice into my mouth, looking straight ahead.

Jake finishes before me, pulling out a twenty and leaves it on the counter, enough to pay for the both of us and a tip. He turns to me, and I him, "So…If you leave and you're ever in town again…come find me."

I smile at him, his homeboy charm being the reason why I agreed to dating him in the first place. I nod, both knowing I won't even if I did. Kissing me on the forehead, he leaves the bar, and with no appetite to eat the rest, I grab my bottle of coke and second his motion. His black SUV parked next to mine, he gives me a nod as he jumps into the car. I sigh, feeling the iron cuffs fall from my feet as I slide into the car.

I know I shouldn't, but so far every relationship I've been in makes me feel trapped. Like I'm missing precise opportunities the longer I'm with the person, and only bringing them more pain the longer I entertain the act. What if an opportunity comes and I'm attached? The idea of my story ending before it starts is by far my great fear.

Driving down the lonely twilight street, I pull into the underground parking lot of my apartment building. Slamming the door behind me and locking it, the thoughts of my grand escape evade me.

I will look up tonight for job opportunities in California, I always thought that living in the sun, on a beach would be a dream come true, it's time to turn it into a reality. It's not like there's anything left to stop me.

Turning to endeavor into the building, a methane smelling cloth is pressed into my face and a strong arm around my back as the lights of the parking lot begins to fade into the nonexistent distance.


	2. New Design

Chapter Two

New Design

E.P.O.V.

"Look, I promise I will get the money, if you can just wait…A week-"

Emmett cut of the balding man's sentence, "That's what you said the last time." He walks with a handgun in hand towards the man on his knees in the middle of a room he should be quite familiar with now, both head and nose bleeding with the beating from the but of my gun, "Look Dave, I don't want to do this, but you left us no choice."

"But I can get the money!" He screams in terror.

He knees down to his level, pulling what hair he does have and force his head in my direction, I clear my throat, "Sorry, but the luxury of time was forfeited when you decided to skip town."

"I wasn't trying to leave town! It's my mother, she's dying!"

"Well maybe you should have given us the money before you decided you wanted to join her." Emmett spoke into his ear, just louder then a whisper.

David seems too paralyzed with fear to cry, all three of us knowing the destiny of this man, "Please, please! You don't need to do this!"

Before David or Emmett could speak, I lift my rifle and pointed it at the sobbing man, "Say hello to Michael Jackson for me would you?" I shot three rounds into his chest, blood splatters landing on both Emmett's and my suit, a drop falling on my cheek.

Emmett looked at me, infuriated, "What the fuck man! I could have moved!"

I whip my cheek with the back of my hand, the weight of another death falls on my chest as I add to the body count. Keeping a completely cool exterior I face Emmett, "Well he wouldn't shut up. You may get off hearing them plead, but I find it deafening."

The sick masochistic bastard grins, pushing himself up to his standing pose as he flexes his chest, "You're paying for the dry cleaning dumbass."

I roll my eyes, leaving the room and walking down the corridor to the abandoned building Carlisle owns, "You're getting paid more then me, pay for your own fucking dry cleaning."

He snorts, "Please, stop whining, you're richer then the both of us and don't deny it. At least I'm not _both _Carlisle _and _Aro's _favorite_."

"Anyone can be their favorite as long as you're smart enough to shut up, do as they ask, and not ask questions." I explain dimly.

I prefer to work with Jasper when I'm on shift with the Volturi. Emmett is _the_ shallowest guy I know with the astounding ability to spot and comment on the obvious. While people like myself keep their thoughts to themselves, as soon as Emmett thinks something it's a crystal clear, HD image. Nothing he thinks he doesn't say aloud. Which would be the reason why he's dating Carlisle's obnoxious daughter and got into this business. They are perfect for each other, both sociopaths, obsessed with their image and no morals to boot.

At least with Jasper I get piece and quite.

"So I hear that the Swan guy died."

"You know I never took you for a gossiper." I state bluntly.

"Seriously, do you realize what this means?"

"Am I supposed to?"

"It means that _someone _i.e. his _only _daughter is going to have to make up the hours."

I roll my eyes, "And this matters how?"

"I hear she's hot."

"Wait, so what happened to Rosalie?"

He rolls his eyes at me, "I swear you're gay." I grit my teeth, trying really hard not to add to the body count already over my head, "Anyway, so the girl's supposed to be a doctor or something. Rosalie told me that someone from Carlisle's underdogs is gonna be reaping her in."

I keep my breath stable and my footsteps in pattern, "And you think it's you."

Emmett snorts, "No, I think it's _you_."

I stop in the middle of the staircase and turn to him, "Why the hell do you think that?"

He shrugs, "Rosalie has connections considering daddy's the chiefs second in command. Apparently they will be asking you in tomorrow."

I grit my teeth, continuing to descend down the stairs. I get my iPhone out and text 'Ready for cleaning' to one of the many 'cleaners' on Aro's payroll. Putting it back in my pocket and pushing open the doors, I walk straight to the car, pulling my blood stripped jacket off and looking into the mirror of my Volvo XC60 to make sure that I have successfully relinquish all traces of my dirty deed up in apartment 3b. Praising the fact that there is no stains on my white dress shirt, even though I always come prepared with a second outfit in the boot in case of an 'accident'.

"See you kid." Emmett says from his Jeep.

"Wait, what's the name of Swan's girl?" I ask coyly.

"You'll be baby sitting Isabella Swan, try not to be a prude." He winks, disappearing into his car and drives off.

I lean against the outside of the Volvo, my other hand pinching the bridge of my nose. For fuck sack, why am I the one to baby sit some fucking pampered kid? Her father was a dirty cop back in Washington, and now his daughter is a fucking doctor! The irony in that is so _rich_.

Getting into the car, I slam the door shut, speeding into Chicago city at lighting speed to get back to my apartment. Just to shut myself out from the world and wash the blood off my already soiled hands. Pulling up in the underground parking lot, I grab my jacket and brief case and catch the elevator up to my pent house apartment on the top floor.

Being the only apartment on the floor, I unlock the door and through my keys on the side table beside the entrance and my brief case beside it, making sure to bolt the door shut before stripping off my shirt and unbuckling my pants as I make my way to the bathroom. Throwing my shirt, trousers, briefs and jacket on the ground beside the basin, I lean against the wash tower, turning on the faucet and rinsing the sweat off my face as I look with disgust in the mirror.

I knew there was no turning back when I made the deal with the devil. I look back at myself now and laugh, the pitiful poor law school student who only cared about a bank account and security, his soul never seemed to come into the equation when he first contemplated the idea of being employed by one of the most dangerous, feared, and respected mobs in the world.

Each threat, each beat up, each murderer I've represented, each kill is just more blood on my hands, now, after eight years of being in the game, the blood seems more like rain. It's not something that just stops, and cannot ever be controlled. I don't even feel the remorse anymore, only a small tug on the inside that adds to the weight of the body count.

Jumping into the shower, I scrub myself with a loafer and body soap. No matter how hard I try, how much soap I use, how hard I scrub, I never feel clean. Most likely because I never will be. Running shampoo through my hair, my mind goes back to the girl I'm supposed to _teach_. I already have a full time job at Baker and McKenzie, the best law firm in all of the Midwest. How am I supposed to keep my eye out on a doctor when I'm an attorney? Why isn't Jasper teaching her like the rest?

Finishing my shower and turning off the water I hear 'Renegade' being played as my phone start to ring. Quickly grabbing a towel I giving my hair a few tugs before answering, "Edward Masen."

"Ah, Edward, how are you my boy?"

My blood runs cold as the voice of my unofficial boss is calling _me_ up. It isn't the first time, but it is indefinitely rare, "Yes, fine, yourself?"

"Well, very well. Now Edward, I have business I need attended and I believe you are the person for it. I shall need to meet with you now if possible." 

'If possible' is only the feeling Aro likes to give to his workers to make them feel like they have a choice, if inconvenient, you'd better make it convenient, "Yes, of course. Where?"

"Actually, I'm in your apartment as we speak."

I stiffen, how the hell did he get in when I locked it from the inside? "I will be right out."

Hanging up, I dry myself hastily. Opening the door I go straight into my room, I rush to the closet and pull on a pair of briefs, black slacks, and a white blouse, not worrying about the state of my hair or how it was dripping on my now transparent shirt, but worrying about keeping my guest waiting. Almost slamming my bedroom door open, I walk calmly down the hall, keeping my cool as I walk into my living room where Aro Volteera sat in my leather one seated couch facing the hall. His manner calm, body professional, and eyes like a shark ready to attack his pray, disguise with a chilling smile.

He stands and pats me on the shoulder as a _friendly _gesture, shaking my hand, his other hand over my own, "Edward my boy, it's been so long since I've seen you."

"Yes, and I you," I say with a business tone of voice, "So what is the reason for a personal visit Aro? Hard to believe you've missed me that much."

He chuckles, sitting back down and invites me to occupy _my_ seat parallel to him, "As briefly said on the phone Edward, I have business I would like to have you attend to, and you alone."

I nod, not gain to mention my prior knowledge of what he intends to tell me for the first time, "As you know, our relations and the chief of police over in Washington is no longer with us. Well he hasn't yet to fulfill his mandatory sentence for the damage he had caused when he first left the academy. His only daughter, Isabella Swan, is to fulfill the rest of his sentence."

"Does she know this?" I ask.

"No, of course not. She's currently residing in Evanston as a general practitioner. I think that her doctoring skills will benefit greatly with business, and it _is _mandatory that she becomes one of us."

"And how does this affect me?" I ask with fake innocence.

"She will need to be conquered first most, and then needs to be taught her place."

"Why isn't Jasper the one doing this? He's been teaching new comers since the second year he's been with us." I voice my confusion.

He chuckles, "My dear boy, Isabella is a special one. You see, she's a surgeon, and I want her to only work her magic on the people I see fit. I need a doctor I can trust thoroughly on to mend the most confidential patients."

"I'm still failing to see where I come in."

"Edward, you are a beautiful, charming young man, she is a stunning and engaging young woman. I need her trust, and I need her devoted. I also need her to be with you at every moment of the day until I know she will not try to escape her duties."

My minds black, "Wait a moment, you're saying you want me to romance her?"

"A way to pure devotion is through the heart Edward."

My blood boils, but I refuse to show and sign, "And what? She comes to work with me in the firm?"

He nods, "I've made arrangements, you now have a _new _paralegal."

"But she has been educated in law what so ever, she's a doctor!" I can't pull this off.

"Edward, calm yourself. She will be your legal assistant, she will be following in your footsteps, handing you papers in the courthouse, and fetching you coffee from the kitchen. Whatever you have her do is entirely up to you, but as long as it is only you who's doing it." He ends with a firm note.

I grit my teeth, "So the reason you chose me for this is because I'm unattached."

"Not just that Edward, but I also believe you are one of my most trusted associate. I see potential in this plan Edward, and I want you to put one hundred and ten percent into making this plan go as ordered. Do you understand?"

"Crystal clear." I reply.

Aro smirks, obviously finding something amusing, "Good. I have Emmett fetching the girl as we speak, and she will be brought up to this apartment in a matter of minutes."

I stood from my chair without thinking, "You already have her? She's staying _here_?"

"I've spoken to the girl, she knows and she also knows what will happen to her if she tries to leave or and any other silly plans. As I said before, Isabella is a special case, if she tries to leave or anything else, I want you to have Emmett _teach _her her place."

"And not me?" I grit my teeth, knowing that Emmett will go to more drastic measures then my own…Well, only because I hate to abuse woman, but in other cases….

"Edward, I want _you _to gainher trust. If you were there one to lay a hand on her you won't gain her trust back, or it will be a very grave task to do. I will be keeping updates, and you will be notifying me of all activities. I want a full report."

"Do I hand deliver it to Carlisle."

He thinks for a moment, "Yes, that would be best. I will be popping in every month or so to make sure I'm well informed." He walks himself to the door, "I must strongly remind you Edward, that this is a very delicate case and I will have _no _excuses."

I nod, and with that, he left.

I pull at my hair, infuriated. Emmett made it out as if they didn't have the girl yet, he made it out as if he was only an easdropper! Not to mention Aro making it sound like I had days before I'd meet the girl at the beginning of the conversation, and now I have this-this girl coming here and with a mind state of being kidnapped, she will most likely get creative. I do have a spare room, but that does not mean I had intended her to stay in it. My life is becoming a new design and I never added an opinion to it. Not a word.

Feeling pissed and cornered, I paced my room gritting my teeth, and my curled fists slamming against the three-seated leather couch. Not wanting to do damage, I throw myself on the couch and pinch the bridge of my nose to calm me down, taking deep and steady breaths.

So I'm supposed to invite a girl into my fortress of solitude, allow myself to get close to her, and have another infatuated girl after me. The flaw with Aro's plans I can already see is the vengeance of a woman's scorn when I cannot precipitate her feelings, then what will happen to me? I can't pretend I'm in love with the woman for the rest of my life just to amuse Aro that he has his own Barbie doctor.

Realizing the attraction the girl has to have for me reminded me of my mother, before she passed away. She told me that riches and glamour would never replace the love of a woman. Well she was wrong, because she died when I was seventeen because my drunken ass father couldn't afford her surgery, apparently buying alcohol for himself was more important, as if he deserves pity for being stuck with a cancerous wife.

The thought of my mother reminded me of how far I've strayed from home, how far away I am from ever feeling happy again. How alone I am. Even in an office of people, I can never shake off the feeling that when they go home they will have a healthy mother, a father who is not pissed to the extent that he doesn't remember his own name, a loving family. Me? I come home to the uninviting phone call from a mob lord wanting me to off the guy who has the perfect life, or another favor he needs of me, and now, I'll be coming home with a girl who's been kidnapped to work with them, and I'm supposed to _romance _her into it, so she will _want_ to stay longer then the five years her father still has owing of his services, so she'll want to sell her soul. And even after the five years and she chooses to leave, to get out, I do not believe it will be as easy as everyone in the mob deleting Isabella's number from their mobile.

The knock of the door echo throughout the apartment, I open my eyes. There's no turning back this time.


	3. I caught myself

Chapter Three

I caught myself – Paramore

Feeling faint and drowsy is not the best way to wake up. Not at all. Trying to open my eyes as I start to piece together what happened before I blacked out is making me feel on the verge of vomiting. I can only imagine whatever chemical that was on the cloth used to knock me out would have a heavy effect, due to my body weight and size.

"She's awake." An anonymous voice calls.

My force open my eyes, instantly they retreat as the light rays were too bright, and the swirling of the room is not helping. Squeezing them shut and opening them again it is less painful then the first attempt. Seeing the two figures in front of me I jerk myself up, quickly crawling backwards until my hands and back meet a solid wall. A scream building its way up my throat, but my pride wants to get myself out of this without calling for help.

"Calm yourself Isabella, we're not going to hurt you…" A calming, smooth voice says.

I don't speak, just watching both of the men in front of me, both having at least forty pounds on me, as I try to conjure up an escape root. If I kick the blond in the jaw just right, the force will have him hit the ground head first and hopefully knock him out, and the other man will come after me instantly, so assuming I'm half way up, I can knee him in the groin and have him on the ground too and then run for it…

"We just want to speak to you." Reassures the black haired man, wearing a black tailored suit and slick back hair.

I frown, repulsed, "You knocked me out in the parking lot of my apartment building just so you can 'have a talk'?"

"Shhh, Isabella. My name is Aro, and this man here is Carlisle."

My frown deepens, "Aro…As in Aro Volterra…?"

"Yes, you're correct my child."

"Stay away from me!" I cried.

"You have nothing to fear my dear," He attempts to stroke my hair, but I turn my face away and slide further along the wall, "Please stop this nonsense, I need to talk business."

"H-how can you talk business with me? I don't take drugs, I'm just a nobody." I plead.

"Ah, that may be true, but we know your father."

Fear erupts through my being, "What do you mean you know him? He's dead! Has been for a year."

"Yes, and you've been mighty hard to keep track of, chopping and changing jobs like it's going out of season, it was only too perfect when you got one just minutes away from down town." He smiles a chilling smile, "Your father worked for me."

The fear quickly changes to anger, "My father would NEVER work for you!"

"Oh he did, he was in some pretty heavy stuff after your mom and you left. He almost had…Anyway, he went in too deep and I offered to pull him out."

"For what? So you can have your guys taken out of Forks lock up? My dad has never been in any serious crime."

Aro smirks, "Obviously you didn't know your dad as well as you thought, dear."

"What does that have to do with me?" I glare at him, grunting the words through my teeth.

"Well, as we both know, your father is diseased, moved on, and now I have to as well."

"I don't understand."

"For my help, your father owed me twenty-five years of service. Unfortunately for both himself and you, there is five years remaining."

"Then dig up his grave and have him work the remaining five." I spat.

"I like your sense of humor, but this is how it's unfortunate for _you_, you are his _only _daughter."

"And?"

"And that means the sin's of the father is weighted upon his children."

I gulped, "I will not work for you."

"Oh I think you will. You see, if you don't you won't be leaving this room. And not just that, it won't be the…fastest of leavings either."

"What do you want from me."

He smiles, knowing he is making me crack gets this bastard off, "Just the five remaining years he has owing."

"And what will I _do_?"

"That's where this gets interesting," He stands up fully and walks around the room in a random sequence, "You see, I need two things from you. First, I need your doctoring skills."

"Why can't you just go to a hospital? I thought the Volturi is supposed to be 'untouchable'?" My temper cross with an aching head has me saying things, dangerous things, to dangerous people.

Aro smirks, "That may be true, but we still have flaws in the grand design, and I want to polish up and keep possible cracks from breaking in the future."

"So what? You want me to play doctor with your psychopathic gang?"

He grits his teeth, "You will only people working on few people, _special _people."

Not wanting to know that he means by that, I ask the next question, "And what's the second thing?"

He smirks once more, "You will be staying with a worker of mine, he's very high on the rankings and very honorable."

"No, I am not staying with anyone!"

Before it processes in my mind the sting of my cheek awoke me from blank state. I hold my cheek from the back handed slap Aro has given, feeling it bleed. I hold back the water threatening to escape the corners of my eyes, "You will obey and you will listen!" He calms and collects himself, smiling once again, "You _will _be staying with a worker of mine, and you will be giving me full reports on his…loyalty."

I glare at him, "I thought he was _honorable_."

"Yes he is, and he's one of my best workers. But lately he's been acting peculiar and I want to know whether his alliance still sides with my own."

"And if I don't?"

"I've mentioned just before Isabella, you will do as I say and you will tell no one, or you will not live to see the day after Isabella, I will promise you that." He glares at me, a hint of amusement in his eyes, as he knows he has the power to make a fully-grown female doctor bark.

"His name is Edward Masen, he is an attorney and you will be following his every foot step, including being his legal assistant at his work. Where he goes, you go. He believes he has to teach you your place in the mob and to watch out for you, and your objective is to find out at any means necessary if he is becoming… a liability to business.

"You will live with him, you will eat with him. I don't want one minute of your day spending apart with him. Is that understood?"

"Crystal." I glare at him.

He smirks, "Your attitude is astounding similar to that of Edward's, it will be interesting to see how this arrangement pans out."

I want to spit at him, I want to scream at him, I want to kick him so hard he won't have kids. He believes that I'm what? Some reality show? That he can put me in some random apartment with a stranger and we will become the Brady bunch? All to be part of his sick and twisted game and logic.

"Then what? I become BFF's with the guy and in five years drop contact?"

"That my dear, is entirely up to you."

I want to laugh at his comment, like I will want to stay in this mess for more then five years, like I won't try to find a way out _before _the end of the first year. The news this morning- or the morning I was taken, showed how much havoc they make in the country of Illinois. No. In all of the US! He had things on my dad and had him working for them! My father, the man who took me in during my teenage hood, the chief of police, a criminal? I just can't believe that. Surely I would have known when I was under the same roof as him. Surely I would have spotted something tangible.

I grit my teeth together, looking down at the cold concrete pavement. I have no other choice, they will never let me leave unless I agree, and they won't let me go until I've done what they ask of me. But how am I supposed to survive? Do I go to work and come home to an unfamiliar apartment –mind you all my recent apartments are becoming more like motel rooms lately- and a perfect stranger? What's his take of this? Is the guy nice? Of course he's not nice! He's a 'higher rank', you don't just gain that title by handing out girl scout cookies and raffle tickets.

Grabbing a phone from his jacket pocket, Aro speaks again, "I must go and attend to Edward. Another worker will be dropping you off at his apartment when I signal. Carlisle will be keeping watch till then," He speaks as he texts something into his phone, the mentioning of the blond reminds me he's there considering he hasn't spoken a word yet, "Oh, and remember Isabella. You will do as I say, and you will not cause trouble. If you do, bad things will happen. All the best."

Feeling relief floor me as the mob boss leaves the room, I turn to the blond. He purposefully puts his hands on his hips, showing the gun in its holster at his waist, "Hello Isabella, I know you have a lot of questions-"

"You're damn right I have questions!"

"-but you must realize that this is not all black and white."

"Black and white? What's white? You people kidnapped me and now you expect me to be an inside spy to a man I don't know and to stop my work to become a shadow!" I burst.

Obviously not pleased with my outburst, he tries hard not to show anger, "Yes it is expected. Your rights were forfeited the moment your father passed away."

"But that's not my fault! Whatever he's done, it has nothing to do with me." I plead.

"It has everything to do with you, and until you come to terms with that you will only drown yourself in self-pity." He states firmly.

"I don't _pity _myself." There are worse cases out there, maybe not so bizarre, but still worse. I'm not going to feel sorry for myself for getting lousy cards.

_Very _lousy cards.

"Then shut up, stop complaining! You may think your case is bad, well I'm telling you, hundreds would _love _the opportunity you have." He glares.

I frown, "Well if I'm getting such a _good _deal, then why isn't someone else doing the honors?"

"Because."

"Because?"

Carlisle crouches down in front of me, glaring me in the eye, "You'd better learn to stop asking questions little girl, it can get you in lots of trouble."

I suppress a shiver; something tells me he will only get off if he sees a reaction from me. He smirks, getting up and walks to the door, sitting parallel to me. I don't look at him, I only grit my teeth and stare at the ground with my hands on my knees. I suddenly feel a hatred for my loving father. How can he leave me with his unfinished business? How can he take the easy way out and allow me to take the fall? God! Why am I sounding like such a spoiled brat! I'm not going to get anywhere with pity and self-loathing floating over my head.

A knock on the door sends me out of my thoughts. Carlisle stands and opens the door, reveling a bodybuilding, curly brunette in dress pants and a black-collar dress shirt. The brunette nods to the blond, who nods back and both look at me, "It's time."

I breathe in, getting up and following Carlisle out, the brunette following in toe behind. Every window I pass I look out, trying to see if there is some sort of attack method I can use to escape, but with the incredible hulk behind me, I know it's an impossible.

As if the man has ESPN, he comments, "If you try to make an escape Isabella, we will find you, and we will use force. There is no possibility of getting out of this."

I look straight ahead, not commenting back. Aro said that they will result to kill if I try to leave, and this guy just said that he will use brute force. Something isn't adding up…As soon as we get to the opening door, the hulk grabs my arm and grips tight, as if expecting I'm dumb enough to make the deadly assumption I'm faster then them. Directing me to a black jeep, he lets go and I pull myself up into the seat, thinking it's not wise to cross the man at this point. Emmett goes around to the drivers seat and Carlisle stays on my side of the monster truck, "You will have your cloths and some possessions sent to you. You won't be seeing the rest. And once again, I must brief you on how ill advised it is to make contact with authorities or plan an escape. I would hate to be the one to have to clean up after you." He strokes my cheek.

A shiver runs down my spine before I can command it to stop, he smirks after hearing a locking sound, as the brunette must have the power to lock all doors from the drivers side. The blond turns and walks away, leaving me with the anonymous brunette. He starts the jeep and I scurry to put my seat belt on as he instantly sets the car into second gear and speeds off.

Neither of us speak till we stop at a light, "I'm Emmett by the way," I raise and drop my eye brows in response to his sudden need to speak, "Just thought you should know, considering you will be seeing a lot of me."

"I why will I be seeing a lot of you?" I break my silence, "I thought I'm stalking Edward."

He chuckles, dimples appearing on each side of his cheeks, "Well, I work a lot with him."

"Where? In an abandoned meat factory and a corps between you two?"

Emmett smirks, "It's more of an abandoned apartment building, the very one you were just in. But it's not just that, I'm an attorney at his law firm as well."

"Whoa, so it really is true, all lawyers are evil."

He laughs, "Keep that humor, staying with a prude, you're going to need it."

I don't reply, I simply just watch as the streets of Chicago passes by. I haven't seen much of Chicago, I never really felt compelled to, and now driving through, it really is just another city like the rest. An architects dream, an ex said. Feeling the car turning off into an underground parking lot, I take a quick glance and admire the sandstone body of the building. Parking close to the elevator, Emmett locks the car and guides me to the elevator. As it opens, the face of Aro appears through the crack. I try my best not to stagger away from him, but the man creeps me out. Only giving a knowing smile and a wink at me, he walks passes, while Emmett gives him a respectable, "Mr. Volterra."

Now rushing into the elevator, trying to put as much space between Aro and myself as possible, Emmett presses the button for level nine, which seems to be the top floor. The silence in the elevator is deafening, and my mind blank. The ring of the elevator pierces through me as it lets us out into our required floor. I breathe heavily, its obvious which room is his considering there is only one door. Emmett march's over to the door and knocks three times, after a short wait, the door opens.

"Took you long enough." Emmett mumbles.

I gulp, as the door recedes to show quite a beautiful red haired man standing with the door in his hand. His piercing emerald green eyes glare at Emmett before turning to me. His strong jaw flex's, as he opens the door wider to allow both Emmett and myself in. Instantly breaking eye contact, feeling my face warm slightly, I try my best not to stumble through the doorway. Emmett instantly plummets onto the sofa, but I stand, feeling the need to let my legs stretch.

Edward walks up to me, I gulp. He extends his hand to me and forces a smile, "Hello, I'm Edward Masen."

"I believe you already know who I am." I say, not feeling compelled to shake his hand.

Realizing I'm not taking the bate, he lets his hand drop and asks, "Would you like something to drink and eat?"

I haven't realized how dry my throat is until now, or how empty my stomach is. My pride almost has me saying no in spite of him, but my instincts win over. I merely nod, and he retreats to the kitchen in the next room. Emmett has a smug smile on his face, "The tension here can be cut with a knife."

"I wonder why." I say sourly.

He shrugs, gets up and hands me an iPhone from his pocket, "This will be your new phone, it already has mine, Edward's, Carlisle's and Aro's numbers on it. If we need to get hold of you then we'll call."

I raise an eyebrow, "You trust an abductee with a phone?"

"Well, I figure because you're a doctor, your smart. So obviously you won't be doing any _dumb _things. Correct?"

I gulp, nodding. He nods, "Good, well I'm heading off. Tell the prude I'll see him tomorrow."

I panic, "Wait! You're leaving me here alone? With _him_?" Not knowing why I really asked that stupid question to a hundred and ninety pound guy who most likely kidnapped me in the first place.

He smirks, "Someone has to."

And with that he leaves. I gulp again, trying to dissolve the lump in my throat. _Fuck! _I thought, pacing a circle around the hard wood floors. Hearing Emmett, Carlisle and Aro talk theory was a lot easier then being in an apartment. Alone. With a stranger for company. How am I supposed to know how to spy on this man? How am I supposed to know what to look for? Already I can see major flaws with Aro's plan.

Edward walks out of the kitchen with a glass of water, the condensation on the outside of the glass brands his finger prints as he hands it to me, "I've put some steak on in the frying pan to keep your iron levels up, is that okay?"

I take a gulp of the water before replying, "I'm a vegetarian."

"A vegetarian surgeon?"

I shrug, no reason to explain something he probably already has in a profile somewhere. He sighs, "Okay, well that'll be my dinner, I'll cook you up some vegetables."

"A peanut butter sandwich works just as well."

"I'm allergic to nuts."

"Ah," I say awkwardly.

He goes back into the kitchen and I feel the need to watch what he puts on for me. Standing at the bar, I watch him go into the freezer and get out a pack of frozen peas and corn before scrambling through the fridge, "I really don't have much organic, I do have a garden salad I picked up today if you're interested."

Not my first choice, but not likely to complain, "Perfect."

Grabbing out a salad bowl, which looks to be from subway, and hands it over to me, he grabs out a fork and mayonnaise, "You're not a vegan are you." I shake my head, "Good, because there's mozzarella on that."

"Thanks," I mutter, grabbing the fork but discarding the mayo to my right. Opening the lid and chowing down on the salad, I feel the eyes of the stranger burn through me, "So how do you keep iron levels up?"

I swallow the food in my mouth, "Green veg and salad is what holds the most iron, it's how cows are full of it, they eat nothing but grass. Anything green and leafy is generally full of iron."

"And you don't take supplements?"

"I take multi-vitamins."

He nods, not saying any more as he tends to his dinner of fried cow. Judging by his character, I have the feeling we're not going to have much to talk about, if either of us want to talk to the other at all. Finishing the bowl faster then usual, I put the lid back on and throw the fork into the sink by the window on the opposite side of the bar. Edward turns around, "Where's the bin?" I ask.

He grabs the bowl and discards it in the rubbish bin hidden behind a cupboard door under the sink, "I'll show you around."

Following him out of the kitchen, he takes me down a hall that leads to three doors, "The one on the left is my room, the one on the right is yours, and the one beside it is the guest bathroom."

I nod, "Can I go for a shower?"

"Sure, make yourself at home." He says uncomfortably.

Walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind me, I sigh deeply. This man is a lot different from the other three. But still, he is a worker for the Volturi, he is high up on the rank, so does that mean he is a murderer?

I strip off my cloths and look at myself in the mirror, seeing the swelling and the cut from the slap I received from Aro, the cut most likely due to his ring. I sigh, running my hands through my hair before opening the elaborate gold plated doors to the shower. Turning on the hot steaming water, I stand under the god sent shower. Shampooing my hair and rinsing it, I sit down on the tile floor, really just trying to prolong the event of leaving the bathroom.

Tears swell in my eyes as I let them cascade down my face, not entirely sure why I'm crying. I shouldn't be crying, what is there to cry about? I'm healthy, I'm _alive_, I may not have my freedom now, but I will get it back.

Eventually…


	4. Wild at heart

Chapter four

Wild at heart – Birds of Tokyo

"Keep up." I grumble, walking up the ascending stairs to the law firm with Isabella Swan in toe.

She mumbles something, but I don't hear it. Aro's bulletproof plan is not flawless. Last night after she got out of the shower, she locked herself in her room. This morning I had to text her to tell her she has to get up and ready for work today, when she came out, she didn't talk to me, she just went into the cupboard and grab out special K and ate surprise, surprise, in silence. My anger for her solitude only increases the longer I'm in the same room with the girl.

Going pass reception, the secretary looks up and greets, "Good morning Mr. Masen."

"Morning June," I charm, turning behind me to Isabella and placing my hand in the crook of her back, pushing her forward, "June, this is my new paralegal, Isabella Swan. I need you to give her a clearance card."

"Hello." Isabella says shyly.

The blonde receptionists smiles and gives her a nod, before swirling her chair to the side of her desk and gets out a pre-ready clearance card with a picture of Isabella imprinted on the silicon. Handing it to my companion, Isabella's face flushes slightly, barely noticeable, as she makes an indent between her brows, obviously confused as to how someone has taken her picture without her knowledge.

"Thank you." I say, recapturing Isabella's attention. Nodding a good bye, I walk towards the elevator with Isabella following.

"How do you have my passport photo?" Isabella asks.

I raise my eye brows at her, "She talks," Rolling her eyes, obviously impatient, "What do you expect? Anyway, anyone can get passport photos off the internet if you know how to dig."

"Something tells me that's not how you've got it." She mutters.

I smirk, she's more clued in then I imagine. Hearing the ring of the elevator, Isabella, three unfamiliars' and myself step into the cubical. Isabella automatically asks all men which floors they desire and my own, she presses all the buttons before retreating in the corner. Making few stops, when we get to the fourteenth floor, I motion to her that this is our stop incase she has forgotten.

Stepping into my all to familiar working environment, I straighten my jacket and walk with the air of authority and power. In this company, my colleagues know my influence on this joint and the importance of my employment. Everyone –part from rare few- talk to me with nothing less then a business-like manor and exterior. In this business, you learn very fast not to make friends or confide in people, no matter how friendly or comforting they may seem.

Walking straight ahead to my office, I open the door and allow Isabella in first. Nodding her gratitude, I close the door at once to any wondering eyes that may have followed. I put my brief case down besides my desk and show Isabella to the now vacant varnish oak desk on bottom of a startling white apple desk top, to the left of my office, "So this is yours."

She nods and puts her very recently bought brief case besides her own desk, I ask in a business tone of voice, "Do you have any idea what a Paralegal does?"

Looking up at me, she speaks, "I've done an internship with a small law firm in Port Angeles during the summer I was seventeen. Maybe a bit rusty, but I've been known to have a good memory."

I frown, "Wait, you did an internship in a law firm, and yet you become a doctor? Why didn't you go candy stripping instead?"

Glaring at me, she responds, "I didn't plan on becoming a doctor until I finished high school."

Letting the matter drop, taking off my coat I put it on the back of my chair before picking up a portfolio and going round to Isabella's desk and letting it drop, "This is the case I'm working on-"

"Volturi related?" Her voice full of sarcasm.

"No," I grit my teeth, not liking the free-willing attitude she's showing me, "thirty-six year old Caucasian was murdered, Mitchel Hayes is being charged for it, _we've _got to prove him innocent."

"And is he innocent?"

"The question is not 'is he innocent or not', it's if I'm a good enough attorney to get him off."

"So you really do have no morels."

That hit a nerve, something I can't afford to have injured. Placing both hands on the desk and leaning over with a deathly stare, I speak with a poisonous tone, "Isabella, _never _forget who you're talking to, because that pretty little mouth of your will get you into a lot of danger."

Seeing her face flush and her jaw flex, I push myself off her desk and walk back over to mine and sit in my chair, "Read the documents and crime report and get familiar with them, to test your memory out, there are previous cases in the journals on the computer to flick through and text books on constitutional law, criminal justice and law interpretations. Use all the resources, have any question, ask _only _me and try limiting them."

Giving a swift nod, she picks up the folio and starts her research. Waking up my computer, I start where I left off on my first draft of the testimonial. My only intention for Isabella in the office is to read. I've never worried myself with a legal assistant; group work has never been my thing. Nothing Isabella would interpret from the text I've given her won't be anything I already know, the fact that she has a mediocre experience in a law firm will only help her with the discourse of law. Nothing more.

_So you really don't have a soul_, her words replay in my head like a broken record. I used to have such a passion for law, when I was an absent minded kid. I wanted to be a defense attorney, growing up in my neighborhood and my parents; you would always see two sides to every story. Now, I'm a Criminal defense lawyer, helping to make the streets a worse place then they already are. I can feel with every victory of a case that hell is only a step closer, and my grave a foot deeper. I no longer go to church anymore because I no longer feel that God can forgive the grave sins I've committed – that I'm _still _committing.

Looking over at my personal Rubik's cube, I can't help but wonder what IQ she has. Is she incredibly brilliant or incredibly stupid? Before work today I didn't get one word out of her, and now she mouths off at me at any given opportunity. Then the fact that she's had law experience. I had not been notified of that, it's not in any file I was given of her. What else has she accomplished that I don't know?

Snapping out of it, I turn back to the monitor and continue my work. Around midday, I feel myself getting dreary, wanting nothing but my afternoon overpriced Starbucks coffee, "Come on Isabella, we're going to lunch."

Obviously interrupting her from a deep thought, she looks up and nods, putting down a thick textbook. Grabbing my coat, wallet and phone, I make my way out of the office, quickly glancing at the text Isabella has on her desk. 'Interpretational Law, edition II' Not sure if I should be impressed with how fast she's catching on or not -considering I don't know her progress-, I don't mention a thing.

"Where are we going?"

"Starbucks, not too far of a walk, only three blocks away."

Getting in the vacant elevator, I take the first look at her since we've stepped out of the office, she flushes, "I-I don't have my wallet."

I raise a brow, "I'm paying."

"I prefer you don't-"

"I don't have to feed my legal assistant? And here I thought you were human."

She rolls her eyes, "When will I be getting my personal items?"

"They should be at the apartment by the time we get there." It's feeling really strange saying 'we' when I've always been an 'I'.

We stay in silence the whole way down and to the infamous coffee shop. Opening the door for Isabella, she walks in and waits for me as we walk together to the service desk. Knowing what I want, I watch Isabella look at the menu boards and the display cabinet to under it, "Hello, what would you like?" Asks a college aged boy with the expression he doesn't want to be here.

"A large double shot latte and a beef lasagna please, Isabella?"

She looks at me, then at the tender, "Large Caramel latte on soy milk and a spinach and feta lasagna please. Both coffees in mugs please."

Putting it through the register after I give him my name, I give the kid a twenty and leaving the change in the tip bowl as both Isabella and I go and find a table to the corner, "Soy milk?"

She shrugs her shoulders, "I _was _a vegan a one point in life, I love cheese, but my stomach doesn't have as much patients for milk as much as it had."

"What got you into being a vegetarian?"

"I'm a greenie," she sighs, "I don't feel that animals need to be exploited for my taste buds and the amount of run-off and pollution agriculture is making is one of the biggest causes of global warming. Basically I'm trying to lessen my carbon footprint."

"I didn't know doctors could be greenie's, considering that you're saving the race that is destroying the planet."

I take a sharp breath, Isabella is cracking a _smile_, and it's not such a horrible site either, "I've been asking myself the same thing."

I let my expression show confusion but I don't make her elaborate as I hear my name being called by the barista. Getting up and picking up the tray with Isabella's and my order, I bring it back to the table, "Do you have sugar?"

She shakes her head, "Caramel is sweet enough, with your extra shot I should be asking you the same question."

I shrug, "I'm trying to lay off artificial sweeteners."

"That's what brown sugar is for."

"Well, maybe I'm trying to consume less."

Isabella gives a silent laugh while she tries hard not to show her level of amusement behind her coffee cup. Now examining her in a less hostile environment, I see just how stunning my new roommate is. Her luscious brown hair curls at mid chest, her tight figure displayed in a white blouse and fitting pale pink slacks that brings out her colorful cheeks– which stands out in a crowed of black suits. While she looks incredibly irresistible in the work clothes lent from Rosalie –who hasn't the slightest clue-, she still gives off an air of innocents. The world may have tainted her mind, but not her soul.

Having lunch in such a calming environment is so…nice. I rarely have lunch with a colleague, and when I do it's Emmett or a Volturi member, and even then it isn't the most pleasant of company. There is no way I'm about to let my guard down, but it's a surprisingly relaxing feeling knowing that you can loosen your act without an official judgment being taken.

Swallowing the food in her mouth, she speaks, "I want to ask you a question about the case," I encourage a nod, "Where is Daniel's alibi? Mitchel's son? I saw you got his wife's, but not the teenage boy."

I frown, rethinking, "Now that I think about it, the police haven't managed to get one from him. I'll call the police and ask about it when we get back to the office."

I take a sip of my coffee, if the son hasn't shown then this is a much more approachable way to take to court…She speaks again, "Remember, he is just a kid-"

"Isabella, regardless of how old the kid is, if he wasn't there to give an alibi to the police, then he is regarded as a prime suspect."

"His father has just died, he's probably just confused-"

"-Or ridiculed with guilt because he killed his father."

Her cheeks burn with frustration, her lips pressed tight as her glare flows straight through me. I just pick up my coffee and take another scorching sip. And to think we were having such a pleasant conversation…

My phone vibrates in my pocket, taking it out I read the new text from Jasper on the slick screen, '_found J, we're meeting him after work.' _In other words, found the man that back stabbed us to the police, we'll be beating him up, then if we feel the need to show mercy, leave him on the corner of a black street with his limbs and nose still in place.

Now what to do with Isabella…"I will be dropping you off at the apartment after work, I have some business to attend to."

She pauses with her mug to her lips, she sets it down, "Isn't that a bit risky?"

"From what I can tell of you so far you're not suicidal."

Isabella's face shows she is in deep concentration, "Can't I come?"

My brows knit together, "I thought you'd be relieved you get to spend time on your own."

She shrugs her shoulders, "But what would I do?"

"Is there something you're not telling me Isabella?" I lean over the table so I can look dead in her eyes.

She gulps, shaking her head with flush cheeks, "N-no, it just- it wouldn't feel right being there by myself…And what if Aro comes back."

"Aro won't do anything to you Isabella, plus the fact that he wouldn't go to the apartment. He's probably been there twice since I've worked for him."

"But still…"

"You _really _don't want to come with me Isabella."

"Can't I just stay in the car?"

I sigh, "And you won't leave the car?"

"Yes."

"No matter what you hear?"

A shiver ran down Isabella's spine, finally a reaction I predicted. She merely nods, though her eyes tighten and gulps. I don't like this idea. I don't like this idea at all! How am I supposed to get close to her if she hears the tortuous and sinister things Jasper and I are about to commit? Will she try to run at the first scream? If she does, I can only imagine the suffering she will go through when Emmett gets his hooks into her.

Not feeling eager to finish the rest of my lunch, or coffee, I ask, "Are you done?"

She nods, standing and pushing her chair in. She picks up both of our mugs and uneaten food and takes it to the counter and walks out with me half a foot in toe. I wonder if she always does that, always does everyone else's job for them. She notes my staring and sighs, "I worked at a café when I was at university, I don't like leaving a mess for others to clean up."

I simply nod, where hasn't she worked? We don't speak again the whole walk back, neither do we make small talk in the elevator up to the office. The rest of the day heads in the same direction, I call the Chicago police to ask them to keep an eye out for Daniel Hayes and I finish the first draft of the testimonial.

I look at my watch, 4:38. I exhale heavily, it's time, "Isabella, we're done for the day."

Looking up, she closes the files and exit out whatever she has on her computer, I make a mental note to check what she's been researching tomorrow when she leaves for the toilet. Grabbing my coat and suitcase, both Isabella and myself leave the office. How am I supposed to do this? Can I really just leave Isabella in the car while I go beat some ungrateful ass up? Yesterday my companion had her own life, working as a doctor, how can I put this to her that if she leaves the safety of the car she will be hunted down and be given the same amount of respect as the Nazi's gave the Jews?

Getting in the car, I turn to Isabella, "Are you sure you don't want me to take you back to the apartment?"

She nods without hesitation. I sigh, "Isabella, no matter what you hear or even see, you must stay in the car-" 

"Or I will be hunted down like a rabbit in season." Her voice lacing with sarcasm.

"There are worse things then dying Isabella, remember that." I warn, reversing the car out of the parking lot and making my way down the all to familiar streets. I park next to Jaspers black Nissan. She looks at the building with a placid expression. This is the place Isabella most likely woke up yesterday afternoon; I wouldn't blame her for not having a fond memory of this building. Then again, walking into it is like walking into a concentration camps gas chamber, you feel all the evil humans have committed since the beginning of time in that one building. A soulless heaven.

I feel dread and a coil in my stomach as I get out of the car, making it my priority not to visually show my emotions. Shoulders straight and head up, I walk into the gates of hell disguised as an abandoned building the 'council' won't tear down. Opening the door I hear a shrilling scream, I pause for a second, wanting nothing but to turn and leave the building, leave the country. Knowing that isn't a possibility, I remember Isabella in the car, I turn slightly a peek at her. Her expression is unrecognizable with her brows knitting together tightly. I turn back and continue into the building and close the door.

"What made you think you were smart enough to defy god Jenks? What made you stupid enough to think that the police has _any _authority on us? We _are_ the authority!" I walk in on Jasper kicking the balding man squirming on the ground in the guts. He yells in pain and curls tighter into a ball, his features paint with hurt and fear.

I speak, "Leave him for a moment so he can speak Jasper."

He turns to me, nods swiftly and steps back besides me. The man lifts himself on one elbow, his other hand gripping his stomach after he wipes the blood off the corner of his mouth, "P-please! My wife just had a bab-" He coughs out blood, having a miniature fit for a moment before pleading once more, "Had a baby, I-I can't keep on working for the Volturi-"

"-So you take matters into your own hands? Decide that you'd defy the very hand that got you out of your mortgage debts, because?" I say coldly.

"Please! Believe me! I tried to ask out-"

"What does the Volturi ask of you? What is the only thing the Volturi _ever _ask of you?"

He grimaces, obviously embarrassed, "To give new identities-"

"When needed. And how often is that Jenks? What? Two, maybe three times a year. How do _you_ think_ you_ have it hard!" Venom evokes with every word. This _ungrateful _bastard thinks _he's _got it _hard_! He doesn't go home at night after letting murderers go free, after committing the deed _himself_! My anger elopes me as I kick the man in the ribs, slinging him backwards and screams in pain once more. I know Aro doesn't want him dead, he's very valuable to the business, but that doesn't mean I can't scare him severely.

"We're done with him." I say to Jasper.

"What do you want to do with him?" He asks.

I bend down beside the man, groping his ribs in pain, "You _will _go back to work tomorrow, and you _will _go back as it was a week ago. Everything you said to the cops has already been discharged, and if you _ever_ try that little stunt again, it won't just be you who gets the punishment."

Getting up I make my way out, Jasper stares after me until I'm out of his vision completely. On my way out I look down at my exterior and straighten up once more, glade that todays little chore hasn't left a stain. As soon as I make it out of the building Isabella's eyes connect with mine, I don't stop walking towards the car, neither do I loose eye contact till I make it to the car. Instantly I sit in the drivers seat and drive off immediately.

"Did you kill him?" She asks bluntly.

I look at her in the mirror, her expression as placid as the moment we left the office, as she looks straight ahead. I reply, "No."

"Do you have many field trips?"

"Look Isabella, I didn't ask for you to come, okay? You did. So I'd prefer to not play twenty questions with you every damn minute of the day." I burst.

Neither of us says a word the entire way back to the apartment. I don't know what she does with herself, but as soon as I entre the apartment I go straight to my bathroom and lock the door. Ripping off my clothes violently and not daring to look at my reflection in the mirror, I put the shower on scolding as I yet again try to scrub watermarks clean. Knowing, of course, by now that it's all water under the bridge, a stain in the sand, I get out after a few short minutes and towel myself dry. Wrapping the towel around me I entre my room and throw on a pair of black sweat pants and a gray wife beater.

Seeing no sign of Isabella when entering the living room, I continue to the kitchen and get a beer out of the fridge and sit myself in front of the television and put it on, watching CNN – probably the most poor excuse for a news station I've heard of as most 'breaking news' is how the newest celebrity is sleeping around with some low class whore. But, I do admit, watching it helps me believe that all the shit I do is not close to the magnitude the rest of the world impacts. Just an insignificant proportion is affected.

Not hearing her come out of her room, Isabella walks into the kitchen in her pink trousers and her white tank top barefoot. Trying hard not to draw too much attention to her, I take another swig of my beer and refocus on the television. My brows knit together as I hear banging and clanking of pans and pots in the kitchen. Turning the television off, I stand up with my beer in hand and sit on the stool at the bar.

Isabella, while noticing my presence, continues as if I'm not here. Getting out a few onions, potato's, pumpkin, peas and corn from the fridge and freezer, she puts the fry pan on an element and fills a pot with tap water and puts it on the opposite element. Chopping up the vegetables, she puts some oil in the pan and throws it on, while dumping the peas and corn into the pot. It was obvious she wasn't just cooking for herself by the amount of food she prepared; obvious her figure cannot handle the relatively small amount of food. While she gets a spatula from a draw, she starts turning the food over.

I take another sip of the beer, before getting on her side of the bench and grabbing the chopping board and washing it in the sink before getting a wet cloth and cleaning the tabletop. I throw the cloth back in the basin and go to the fridge, getting out another beer and open it, before leaving it beside Isabella. I pick mine up and go back into the living room, this time not in the mood for watching the worlds mistakes broadcast on live television.


End file.
